


Motion of the Ocean

by Squid_Ink



Series: The Eagle and the Cross [10]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, I don't like this, It's crap, but apparently people like it, irunno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 05:14:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5954908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squid_Ink/pseuds/Squid_Ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor and Aveline have sex on the Aquila while they are sailing down to New Orleans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Motion of the Ocean

"You are alright?" Connor asked, stopping beside Aveline as she leaned over the railing and vomited her dinner. The ship surged upward as a swell hit, leaning to the left. Connor bent his knee, moving with the motion of the ship. Aveline gagged before throwing up again. She shuddered, squatting down, hands still clinging to the railing of the ship.

"How do you stand it? The constant motion?" she asked, a weary look in her eyes. Connor clasped his hands and gave a little shrug, turning his gaze out to the endless horizon.

"You do get used to it," he replied. "I enjoy being out at sea. It is peaceful." The wind gusted, snapping the canvas sails and the ship surged forward. The sound of the waves breaking against the wooden hull of the _Aquila_ , the smell of the brine in the air and the shanties the men sang as they work, all sent a thrill through his body. His father wasn't a sailor, but the journals did mention his grandfather being a man of the sea. Connor wondered if the sea was in his blood.

"I will never get use to this," Aveline said, with a shake of her head. "We've been sailing for two weeks now, I think by the time I get to New Orleans I'll never leave it again."

"You did not like Boston?" Connor asked, feeling a little disappointed that she didn't enjoy the city he took pride in protecting. Aveline shook her head.

"I enjoyed Boston, even if it lacked culture," Aveline chuckled, "no. I don't like this accursed ship!"

"Shh," Connor hissed, crouching beside her as he waved his hand to shush her. "If Faulkner hears you talking like that he will get upset. Bad enough that you are onboard, he thinks women bring bad luck."

Aveline snorted. "Bad luck? It is just a boat—" the rest of her words where cut off when Connor pressed a hand to her mouth.

"Don't call her a boat either, she is a ship," he stressed, and looked around to make sure Faulkner wasn't around before lowering his hand away from Aveline's face. "She is a ship," he said again. He stared at Aveline for a few moments, before dropping his gaze and began to pick at the dirt and blood beneath his fingernails.

"My, my, _le capitaine_ ," Aveline purred, "I never realized how, hmm… how do the English say, dashing."

Connor looked up at her, staring like a startled deer. "Uh," he said ungracefully, "thank you." He stood and offered her his hand. "There is some mint tea in my cabin; I'll make you a pot. It helps settle the stomach."

"And a gentleman," Aveline said, taking Connor's hand and getting to her feet, "a shocking surprise, considering the English are nothing more than brutes."

"My mother and Achilles taught me how to be respect to everyone," Connor said, "including women." He began to head to his cabin. "Wittle, man the helm. I am heading to my cabin for the night with Miss de Grandpré."

"Aye, sir!" Wittle replied.

"Yet is your father not English?" Aveline asked, following Connor towards his cabin. She stumbled towards him when a swell rocked the ship. His reflexes were sharp, for he spun around and caught her by the elbows. They stared at each other and once again, Connor felt that alluring spark between them that threatened to make his cheek flush.

"He is, but he…" Connor stopped unsure what to say. He wondered what Haytham had taught, very little because he had only met the man briefly. "He is a man of conviction," Connor finally settled on saying and in a tone that put an end to the topic of conversation.

"This tea," Aveline began, "it'll help with the seasickness?"

"Oh, yes," Connor replied let Aveline go and continued towards his cabin, pausing only long enough to catch a passing deck hand to inform him that he'll be needing hot water for tea.

* * *

Connor lit a few candles once inside his cabin and settled Aveline down on the bed. There was a knock on the door. Connor went to open it, accepting the pot of hot water from the deck and before closing the door. The ship creaked and groaned as it rocked along its course. Connor set the pot down, before opening a cabinet and extracting a teapot from within and some mint tea. He poured the hot water and began to brew the tea. "Please, make yourself comfortable, Miss de Grandpré," Connor said.

"You can call me Aveline," she replied, removing her hat and weapons. "We are both assassins." Aveline said, watching Connor remove his coat and hat. He stood before her in nothing more than his trousers and white tunic, the ties at the top undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the skin beneath. She licked her lips. "No need to stand on such formalities."

Connor swallowed and adverted his gaze. "Very well, I will call you Aveline as you requested." He turned and poured two cups of tea. He handed one to her before sipping at the other one himself. "I apologize for lack of sugar."

"It's fine," Aveline said, drinking her tea. "I must tell you that I appreciate you taking time to sail me back to New Orleans."

"It is the least that I could do. Things were rather… slow, gathering information on the location of my next target. I could spare a few weeks sailing down to New Orleans."

"I appreciate it," Aveline said. Connor nodded, leaning against the desk that was cluttered with maps and charts. Aveline walked up to him, as she drained the last of her tea, before setting the cup down on the desk. "How can I ever repay you?" she placed a hand on his arm and Connor froze. "Is there a way I could repay you?"

Connor swallowed, staring into her eyes. They were a stunning green color with flecks of grey, reminding him of the ocean. Her skin was darker than his was, though not by much and she had that fierce look in her eyes that reminded him of the eagles of home. He pulled his gaze away from her face by draining the last of his tea. "Uh," he said.

"Have you ever been kissed?" she boldly asked, looking up into Connor's face. She watched him flush, avoiding her gaze. "Hmm, _ma ch_ _è_ _re_?" She trailed her hand up his arm, caressing the curve of his neck, until it rested against his jaw. He swallowed, Adam's Apple bobbing in his throat. "Would you like to be kissed?" she purred, pressing her body against his.

"I am a warrior," he said, though it sounded like a weak confession.

"You are _le capitaine_ , with a beautiful woman before you. Or do you deny that I am beautiful?"

"No!" Connor shouted, putting both of his hands on her shoulders. "No, you are very beautiful."

"Then why are you so shy?" Aveline asked, and when Connor didn't reply realization dawned on her and she chuckled softly. "My, my, the big strong assassin has never felt a woman's touch before." She ran her hands up his chest. "I could… remedy that."

"Aveline…" Connor began, his voice strained. "Lets…" he was cut off when she boldly pressed her lips against his. Her lips were soft, with the taste of salt and mint upon them. Her tongue pressed its way between his lips, stroking his and a shuddering moan escaped his throat. He groaned when she nipped his lip and his hands found their way to her hips, pulling her against him.

He broke the kiss first, gasping for breath. "Aveline," he breathed. She smirked at him, before pulling free of his hold. He stared after her as she walked towards the bed. The ship lurched beneath his feet, and he nearly lost his balance, so fixed on the seductively beautiful assassin that was sitting on his bed.

"Connor, I'm sure you have duties about your ship," Aveline said and began to undo the buttons and ties of her uniform. Connor coughed into his hand to clear his throat.

"Faulkner and my officers can see to… the other duties," he said slowly, and he began to move towards the bed. "I was wondering, if… you could instruct me how to…"

"How to what?" Aveline arched a brow, as she tugged off her boots. Connor watched her toss them aside. "Kiss?"

"Among other things," he said, looking away. "I assume you know… such things."

"I have posed as a slave before, and sometimes the masters I pretend to serve desire certain… worldly pleasure that I must oblige them with," Aveline said. Connor couldn't read the look on her face, a mixture between disgust and loathing. "I know how to work between the sheets."

"Would you teach me?" Connor asked. Aveline laughed.

"I've never had it referred to like but, I suppose I can give you some pointers. Come here," she and Connor went over to her and sat on the edge of the bed. She placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him. He returned it, hesitant at first, but soon it began more urgent, hungrier and he found himself pushing her down against the pillow of his, slipping his legs between hers.

His hands seem to know what to do on their own, slipping beneath her shirt and caressing her soft skin, tracing the scars he found. She moaned and cooed, nodding when he found a spot she really liked. Her hands traversed his body as well, his face her guide as she found his pleasure points, often burying his face in the crook of her neck when she caressed one just right, in an fruitless effort to muffle his moan.

* * *

When the light of the dawn, drifted through the cabin windows, Connor felt warm, content and rather confused. A soft murmur pulled him towards reality and he noticed that Aveline was snuggled up against his body, her shoulders bear. He stroked it, relishing in the soft skin. "Aveline," he breathed, pressing his lips to her collarbone. For the first time, he could actually see a future after he toppled the Templars; a future that involved this stunning woman that showed him the pleasures of the flesh.

Aveline stirred, opening her eyes. He smiled and she returned it and her hand found it's way into his hair. " _Bon matin_ ," Aveline whispered.

"Does that mean good morning?" Connor asked. Aveline giggled.

"Indeed," she replied and snuggled closer to him. "Don't you have to get up and show that pretty face to your crew?"

"Faulkner can—"

"Connor, lad! Rise and shine! I know you have Miss de Grandpré with ya, but you have duties to the _Aquila!_ " Faulkner shouted as he banged on the door to the cabin. Connor groaned.

"I will topside in a few moments Faulkner! Let me just get dressed!" Connor shouted, he flopped back down into the pillow, hiding his face in Aveline's hair. "Will you be here when I get back?"

"Depends," Aveline said, and kissed him. "Though there is always tonight."

**Author's Note:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft


End file.
